Communication Breakdown

Boy oh boy, where do I start? I've got so much to talk about I'm really struggling to organize my thoughts.

First, our power is back on after a couple of days without it. That's one of the fun things about living in the mountains. When it snows, you're pretty much guaranteed to be without power for a time. But, that's what God made generators and wood stoves for. And we're eternally thankful that he did. But, that's why the lack of posts the last few days. The generator is only big enough to run a few things, and the computer isn't one of them.

Before I get to pure, unadulterated shit-talking, I know you want to hear about all the snow we got, right? Thanks to the sun we've had for the last couple of days, a lot of the snow has already melted. But we got dumped on. It looked like someone was standing on the roof dumping buckets of snow on us, like in the movies. It was awesome. We probably got three or four feet basically overnight.

So yesterday we played outside all day. We built a jump and snowboarded a little bit. Our neighbor, the cutest little kid named Brandon, okay he's like 14, not so much a kid but adorable nevertheless, brought over his skate. I've never ridden one before and it's kind of hard to get used to because your feet come right out. But it's really fun once you get the hang of it. Husband and I were launching off of the jump, trying to do tricks and stuff. It was a bunch of fun. The only lame thing was that I took a major digger on Saturday night, like an idiot. We went to our neighbor's houses that night and while I was walking from one house to the other I tripped over my bootlaces and fell hard. And yes, I managed to cut my hand, knee and elbow all at one time. Genius! Like a little kid I trip over my shoelaces. So on one of my jumps I landed hard and opened up my hand wound. OUCH!

Okay, ready for the shit-talking to commence? Now, you're familiar with the ex-Roommate. Well, just 'cause I want to, I'm going to share some interesting information that I learned over the weekend. Just 'cause it's juicy, catty gossip. I just want to be up-front about what it is. Anyway, ex-Roommate's name is Jason. I really don't give a shit about his anonymity anymore and it's easier for me to type. After he moved out and recovered from his broken neck, apparently he met a girl online. The girl is a friend of Mama and lives, or lived until this weekend, in Oregon. Jason is moving this girl into his house, from Oregon, and apparently thinks she's "The One".

Well, this girl is a recovering crack (I think that's right, crack) addict, who gave birth to an actual crack baby. The baby is now three years old.

First, a tangent. And I realize that this may not be sensitive or politically correct or whatever. But what the fuck? Why is it that seemingly all women who are alcoholics, in bad relationships, drug addicts, on welfare, living in their cars the most fertile women on earth? These women have no problems at all getting pregnant and birthing an alarming number of children given their life circumstances. But people who would actually provide a stable and loving environment for children can't get pregnant. I just find so much wrong with this. Bitter? Perhaps. Perhaps I might be a little bitter.

From what we hear from Mama, these two lovebirds have spent the last week or so in an Oxycontin induced stupor. (Who's taking care of the child? Who knows.) They are snorting it, so that's good. They recently went to a show, Michael Franti & Spearhead, and took the child with them. Because they were all fucked up on Oxycontin and drinking also, this ex-crack addict girl fell, FELL, on her child and was escorted out of the venue.

I don't think I ever mentioned that Jason has a record. He was arrested for domestic violence a couple of years ago and is required to attend anger management classes. Now this always bothered me, especially when he lived with us. He never discussed the details of the incident, but I was always a bit worried to be alone with him towards the end. So much so that someone was always with me if I had to be in the house with Jason. Jason has already thrown a knife at this girl and almost hit her with it. He has shaken the child to the point of the girl calling the cops. But, I'm sure they're destined to have a healthy and strong and loving relationship. I'm sure everything is going to work out swimmingly.

I really don't care about Jason's life. But I do care about having stories to share. Reality is too good sometimes, you can't make this stuff up. And I feel it's my duty, nay obligation, to exploit the shortcomings and personal problems of others for the sake of entertainment. No, I don't feel bad about it.

I'm sure I left some things out that are no doubt of the highest importance. However, that' all my Monday brain can manage right now.